Baron De Croiseuil had half expected to hear from Gaunt, for he
imagined that the papers which he had left with Sir Keith Hamilton
might have caused that gentleman to communicate with the millionaire,
with the idea of persuading him into silence. A couple of days passed
and it was very evident that something must be done without delay, and
the Baron reluctantly decided to cause an application to be made at Bow
Street to secure a warrant for Gaunt’s arrest. By this time numerous
documents had arrived from Brussels, and among them were affidavits
sufficiently strong to make out a prima facie case of murder. There
were numberless ex-Congo officials in Belgium who would be prepared to
swear to anything for a consideration, for their morals were warped,
and their greed for gold insatiable.
So the Baron interviewed Mr. Simon Stone—the notorious solicitor, who
was engaged in every case where dirty work was required to be done
skillfully, and gave him full instructions. But as he walked back to
his hotel, de Croiseuil was not altogether satisfied with what he had
done, for he knew that his case was a weak one, and that the arrest
of John Gaunt would cause a great outcry. But it was not his wish to
proceed to that extremity, and as he strolled along Piccadilly, he saw
approaching a gentleman, at the sight of whom he uttered an exclamation
of satisfaction.
“It is really a pleasure to see you. I did not know you were in
London,” he began effusively.
Lord Lynton, for it was he, did not at first recognize the Baron, for
it was some time since they had met, but recollection came at last.
“You are looking very fit,” he remarked politely.
“Will you not come as far as the Ritz with me? It is just time for
déjeuner, and you are the very man I wanted to see.”
The Earl hesitated, and the Baron continued quickly.
“It concerns your brother-in-law, Mr. Gaunt. For the sake of your
family, I ask you to come,” he wound up earnestly.
Lord Lynton no longer hesitated, and the two men hastened along in
silence, but as soon as they had entered the sitting-room, the Baron’s
face grew very grave.
“It was fortunate that we met, as your lordship may prevent something
very like a tragedy from taking place. But we will not talk till we
have eaten,” he said, and ringing the bell, ordered that lunch should
be served immediately.
The meal was short but excellent and the Baron did justice to it, but
the Earl was evidently occupied with his thoughts, which were the
reverse of pleasant. To do him justice, he had ceased to consider
himself, although it was very unpleasant to read each day the attacks
upon the man who was his brother-in-law. But Lady Mildred must be
protected and he remembered that Gaunt had been confident that the
Baron was responsible for the articles appearing against him in the
newspapers.
“What is this tragedy of which you speak?” he asked as they lighted
their cigarettes.
“First of all, I want you to bear in mind that I am only doing my
duty. I have a great admiration for Mr. Gaunt, and I deeply regret the
necessity of harming him. You are aware of what has happened, and so it
is unnecessary to weary you with details. You know that he has turned
on his old friends in a scandalous manner, and is raising a bitter but
unjustified feeling against my country. May I ask a question? Have you
come to England owing to this?”
“Yes,” the Earl answered quietly.
“Ah! I thought I could trace the cunning hand of my friend Sir
Keith. But I fear you have been unsuccessful in your mission. Gaunt
is terribly obstinate. May I ask if Sir Keith mentioned _l’affaire
Marillier_?”
“No. This is the first I have heard of it.”
“It is a most deplorable business, but I think that it is as well that
you should know, for it concerns Mr. Gaunt. I will be very short, and
simply say that Marillier was one of our officials who met with an
untimely end, for he was shot by a brother official. In fact he was
murdered, and the man who killed him was John Gaunt,” the Baron said
quietly.
Lord Lynton rose to his feet, and looked down at the Belgian in blank
amazement.
“You are accusing Mr. Gaunt of murder?” he cried harshly.
“Yes, it is very unfortunate, and I am greatly distressed, especially
as I have this morning given instructions that an application shall be
made for a warrant for his arrest. Pray believe that I hated having to
do this, but _helas_, I am but a subordinate, and I am compelled to
obey orders.”
“This affair must have happened many years ago. May I ask you why you
have only just thought of taking proceedings?”
The Baron did not answer, but shrugged his shoulders expressively.
“Your motive is quite clear. You have no hope that he will be found
guilty, but you think that by this means you will discredit him. Baron,
your conduct is in keeping with your other actions in the Congo. It is
a knavish trick,” the Earl cried contemptuously.
“It is unwise to insult me, whose only wish is to be your friend. We
will not discuss the ethics of the matter, but I will hint that these
proceedings may be still stopped by a simple promise.”
“I understand. You wish me to tell Gaunt that if he will shut up, you
are willing to drop _l’affaire Marillier_.”
“Precisely, and I am sure that you will appreciate which way Gaunt’s
interests lie. There is also his wife, Lady Mildred, to be considered.
You are her brother, and surely you have the right to speak forcibly.
If you succeed, not only will you be doing me a favor but——”
“I have not the slightest wish to do you a favor,” the Earl cried
contemptuously.
“It matters not, so long as you bring about the desired end. I was
about to say that you will also be pleasing Sir Keith Hamilton. Perhaps
this fact will appeal to you,” the Baron said drily.
“Do you say that you have actually given the lawyer instructions to
apply for a warrant?” the Earl demanded abruptly.
“Yes. A few hours ago.”
“Then there is no time to be lost. I presume that you have the power of
stopping the proceedings if Gaunt submits to what you want?”
“Yes. Extradition matters are different from your criminal law. All
you need do is to ’phone me that Mr. Gaunt has become reasonable, and
I will see to the rest. You are going, my lord. Then I will wait here
till I hear from you.”
The two men exchanged bows, and Lord Lynton hurried to the door, where
he was fortunate enough to get a taxi-cab without any delay. He had
seen but little of John Gaunt, for his brother-in-law had been very
busy, and had been away each day until dinner time, so that he was not
very hopeful of finding him at Park Lane.
“Is your master in?” he demanded of the footman who answered the ring.
“Yes, my lord. He is with her ladyship, in her ladyship’s room.”
The Earl ran rapidly up the stairs, and found Gaunt and Lady Mildred
engaged in admiring the baby. In fact they were laughing heartily as
they watched the infant’s lusty kicks.
“Gaunt, I want a word with you. Will you come to the library?” Lord
Lynton said almost curtly, and Lady Mildred gave him a quick look of
curiosity.
She rang the bell for the nurse, and then rested her hand on her
husband’s arm.
“I will come with you. Geoffrey, you look very tragic,” she remarked
lightly.
But he was not in the mood for bandying words, and his lips were
tightly pressed together as he faced them.
“Mildred, you appear to enjoy your husband’s confidence. Has he told
you of the Marillier business?” he asked coldly.
“No. What is it? But don’t answer, for John may not wish me to know,”
she added quickly.
For the moment Gaunt was tempted to seize this loophole and escape, but
only for a moment. He could still feel her hand resting on his arm, so
very gently he disengaged it.
“You have the right to know, but you should have heard it from me,
coward that I am,” he muttered hoarsely.
And he blamed himself bitterly for his weakness. What a fool he had
been in not following Edward Drake’s advice.
His words drove the color from Lady Mildred’s face, for she realized
that she was about to hear something that might affect the happiness
which these last few days had been well-nigh perfect. And instinctively
she drew closer to the man whom she had grown to love so passionately.
“I have just come from the Baron de Croiseuil, and he tells me that
a warrant is about to be issued for your arrest,” the Earl announced
bluntly.
The sight of his sister’s evident love had driven away every feeling
of compassion, and he wished to hurt this stern-faced man. But in his
desire, Lady Mildred had been forgotten, and she uttered a cry that
wrung his heart with its pain.
“What does it mean, John? Why should they wish to arrest you? What have
you done?” she cried breathlessly, and her bosom rose and fell quickly.
Gaunt took her hand in his and there was a great pity in his eyes.
“Mildred, I killed a man, and——”
“The charge is one of murder,” the Earl interrupted brutally.
To do him justice, it was with a good motive, that of thoroughly
frightening his sister, so that she would compel Gaunt to give way.
“It cannot be more than manslaughter. I killed a man but it was in
self-defense. Mildred, let me tell you the whole story,” said Gaunt,
and his voice was low with a note of anguish.
“There is no time for that. I tell you that the warrant for your arrest
may already be issued, but there is a way to prevent all this trouble.
Give me your word that this Congo agitation shall end, and you will
hear no more of it,” the Earl said slowly and emphatically.
Lady Mildred turned to her husband with a glad cry.
“Surely you will do that, John? Think what it means. Although you are
innocent, they will drag you to prison, and—I cannot think of it. Why
do you hesitate, John dearest? Look at me. I love you, John, and you
cannot be so cruel. They will take you from me and—Geoffrey, go to the
Baron at once. Tell him that John consents,” she cried vehemently.
And John Gaunt struggled with the great temptation of his life.
“Mildred, you do not turn from me because I killed this man?” he asked
eagerly.
“No, no, John. But send Geoffrey. Tell him to go.”
Gaunt’s face had brightened wonderfully, and he no longer hesitated.
“Stay,” he cried to the Earl, who had reached the door.
The latter turned with a look of inquiry on his face. But he had no
doubt that he had won.
“You will not go to the Baron. Let him do his worst,” Gaunt said
quietly.
“John, you cannot mean it. By our love I implore you to give way. I
will bless you till my dying day. Think of the baby. Think of me,
dearest. They will take you to prison—you, my husband. I cannot bear
it, John.”
She sank back into a chair and covered her face with her hands, sobbing
passionately.
“You cannot hesitate,” the Earl said harshly.
A knock at the door and Edward Drake entered.
“Gaunt, there is an inspector of police below. He wishes to see you,”
he announced, and there was deep sympathy on his face.
“Mr. Drake, you have influence with my husband. He only has to send
word to the Baron and the proceedings will be stopped,” Lady Mildred
cried imploringly. “I know that you do not like me, but you are my
husband’s friend. Advise him to consent.”
In her anguish Lady Mildred had clasped Drake’s hands and he stood
there motionless, with his eyes fixed on Gaunt.
“Mr. Gaunt will do what he thinks to be right,” he said, and his voice
shook with emotion.
“John, do you still hesitate?” she cried piteously. “You owe me
something. I have given you all the love of which I am capable. I have
been generous, for I have sunk my pride, and I will do so again for
your happiness. Speak to me, dearest.”
“I cannot give the Baron the promise he requires,” Gaunt said, and the
fierce attempt to crush down his emotion made his voice sound hard in
his wife’s ears.
With a cry she came towards him, and all appeal had left her face.
“If you will not do this for me, then I swear that I will never forgive
you. Your love is a pretense.” She turned suddenly to Drake. “It is
your fault. It is you who make my husband act in this way. Undo your
work or I can make you suffer, for I know that you care for my sister.”
But as she looked from Drake to her husband, she knew that it was
hopeless, and with a cry of anguish she fell back into her brother’s
arms. Gaunt sprang forward, kissed her tenderly, and without looking
back strode from the room.
“Curse the vow,” he said savagely to Drake, who accompanied him.
The inspector had awaited him in the library and he came forward.
“Mr. Gaunt, I hold a warrant for your arrest,” he said respectfully.
“I am ready,” Gaunt answered quietly.
And the inspector proceeded to read the warrant, but he was quickly
interrupted.
“I understand the charge,” Gaunt cried impatiently. “Do you wish to
handcuff me?”
“No, sir. I have a taxi-cab at the door.”
“Shall I come with you?” Drake asked quietly.
“No, stay and try to comfort my wife. In the meantime see that none of
our plans are delayed. You and your brother have full instructions,”
Gaunt said quietly.